


Empathy

by ChibiPanda



Series: Sweeter Than Sugar [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Chapter 4 will reference depression, Empathy, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Kindness, Listed in order of chapter, Maybe - Freeform, Mild Language, Slice of Life, i guess, kinda 8 + 1 format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-08-01 19:04:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16290071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiPanda/pseuds/ChibiPanda
Summary: Empathy, or the ability to understand and share the feelings of another, was a gift Jisung always had. It came easy to him, so much so he thought nothing of it. If he could help his brothers, that was all that mattered.'Jisung relished in each new addition, finding himself gravitating towards each until he figured out how his puzzle piece meshed with theirs. He molded easily with most of the new guys, many he'd known before. Chris had a way with people, so it didn't surprise Jisung too much that he genuinely liked those who joined.'





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Each member will get a chapter; I'm hoping to finish this fic before and release it continuously during NaNo. Hope you enjoy <3
> 
> This fic takes place in the same timeline as Sweet Like Sugar; you don't have to have read that. Just know, Jisung has hypoglycemia - though he doesn't know until later chapters. 
> 
> Also, Chan is Chris; until he's not...it will be explained XD

 

He was empathetic. That’s what his friend’s mother had called it. Jisung and his family had been visiting relatives and his father’s old friends in Malaysia; years before he’d ever call the place home. The future rapper was about six at the time and had quickly befriended the boy that lived next to his grandmother’s house.

The young Korean boy remembers going to his friend’s house, even though the boy’s name has been lost by time – despite Jisung trying to reconnect when he studied there –, nearly every day during their visit. They’d play silly games; pretending the hardwood flooring was a deep ocean; crawl on all fours as though they were wild animals.

Jisung’s friend had fallen asleep – they both had technically – under the grey cover of the clouds which blocked the sun. Jisung remembers hearing the phone ring and his friend’s mother answering it. He didn’t know what was said, it was too quiet and certainly not in Korean – though he knew some English – but he instantly recognized the sobs that followed.

There wasn’t anyone else at the house and it hurt knowing that the kind older woman was crying so sadly by herself.

The young boy had shifted carefully, trying to untangle his friend who had latched onto the edges of Jisung’s shirt, maneuvering himself off the small bed. The hardwood was slightly cold beneath his bare feet.

The woman was leaning against the kitchen counter, the phone beeped quietly, her head down low and hands gripping the counter so tightly that the color of her knuckles was distorted.

Jisung paused, wanting nothing more than to hug the nice lady, but his mother didn’t like hugs when she was sad and the six-year-old didn’t know how to approach, but he had to.

He watched for another moment, hiding behind an open door, before tiptoeing over towards his friend’s mom. She didn’t know Korean, it hadn’t mattered much before this point, but now it started weighing on the future idol’s mind. He was already learning English, but it was basic stuff; he didn’t even know her name.

He approached similarly to how he’d pretended to approach a wild animal hours earlier; slowly, not wanting to scare. “You…” he blinked, bit into his lower lip, as he tried to think of an appropriate English word to follow, “sad?” he ended, opening his arms to hug the nice woman.

“Oh. JiJi. I’m fine sweetheart.”

The boy knew she wasn’t fine, he watched her try to bring back the tears; try to become an adult again.

It hurt. Jisung felt his own tears fill his eyes, “no, crying.” He barreled into her and wrapped his thin arms tightly around her as best he could, sobbing into her blouse as he did.

She gracefully bent down and picked the small boy up, sitting him on the counter, “Shh. Oh, JiJi you’re such a good kid.”

Jisung tightened his hold and asked again, “Why sad?”

She looked into his eyes and pulled him back into a hug, resting her head gently on his. “Sweetheart, do you know what ‘an accident’ is?”

He didn’t but nodded anyway.

“My sister was in an accident. She was hurt.”

“Hurt?” Jisung knew what that word meant; his grandma had used it when he’d fallen and skinned his knee the other day. The small boy gasped and pulled away to look at her. Biting his lip again he prodded quietly, “she not okay?” When the woman shook her head, his eyes welled up again. “Grandma…we,” he released his right hand and pointed in the direction of his sleeping friend and then in the direction of his relative’s house, “we go to Grandma house – Aunty go to sister.”

She smiled painfully at him, more tears threatened to gather, “I don’t think that will help sweetheart.”

“No…no cry,” Jisung tried to catch the tears as they started to fall from her eyes; more gathering in his own as he did.

“Oh, JiJi.” She pulled him into another hug and spoke softly above his head, “such a sweet empathetic boy.”

It would be years before the future musician would hear that word again and actually understand the meaning, for now, he simply stayed with her.

A knock echoed from the other room and Jisung heard his mother call out, “Miss. Carmen? I’m here to get Jisungie. I hope he wasn’t too much of a handful.”

“Mama,” the young boy called out in Korean, “Auntie’s sister was hurt, can my friend come over so that she can go to her sister?”

The adults had a quick conversation and Jisung watched as his mother pulled Miss. Carmen into a hug. When they pulled away from one another, Jisung’s mother reached down and grabbed his hand. “Come on Jisungie. We need to go,” she spoke softly; carefully.

“But Mama, she needs to go see her sister.”

“Honey,” she knelt down to look him in the eyes, briefly glancing up at Miss. Carmen before speaking, “her sister was hurt badly in a car accident. Do you understand? She’s gone.”

“Like Meow-Meow?” eyes already red again.

“Yes Honey, like Meow-Meow.” The tabby cat had died of old age a few weeks before they’d left Korea. With a soft smile, she carefully picked up her sobbing son and in English spoke again, “I am so sorry about this Miss. Carmen.”

“Don’t be.” She ran her hand up and down the boy’s back, “You’ve got a special boy there.”

Jisung’s family only stayed in Malaysia a few more days. The day before they were set to leave, he had managed to convince his mother to take him back over to his friend’s and Miss. Carmen’s house.

Releasing his mother’s hand, he had gone straight up to the door and knocked. When Miss. Carmen opened the door, tired but smiling, he spoke the words he’d been practicing; that his father had taught and that he had spent hours perfecting. “I’m sorry for your loss.”


	2. Felix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ball of Sunshine meets Squirrel!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a thing for Ji's and Lix's friendship XD Hopefully, this chapter is alright.

When Chris first told Changbin and Jisung that he’d been given the go-ahead to create a larger – could actually debut – project group both were ecstatic; albeit mildly concerned.

The project group grew relatively quickly, Chris was great at picking out strays, and each new person added a rich color.

Jisung relished in each new addition, finding himself gravitating towards each until he figured out how his puzzle piece meshed with theirs. He molded easily with most of the new guys, many he'd known before. Chris had a way with people, so it didn't surprise Jisung too much that he genuinely liked those who joined.

Felix was one Jisung clicked within milliseconds with; the boy hadn’t even opened his mouth and Jisung knew they’d be great friends.

Jisung had entered the café a bit before the scheduled meeting time. Chris liked to introduce new members one on one or one on two whenever possible – he felt as the group grew in size it was probably going to get more stressful for a new person to enter.

_‘Imagine walking in and having to meet twenty new people who you’ll be working with.’ Chris argued to Changbin and Jisung after the group started to form._

_‘We are not going to be twenty Chris-hyung…’ Changbin answered back wide-eyed, ‘I know you like the ‘stray’ idea, but we aren’t cats…’ the rapper sounded both horrified at the idea and disbelieving at the number suggested._

_‘I think we could make twenty work. The stage would be crowded though,’ Jisung had chimed in happily, popping a third piece of candy into his mouth, ‘Would be challenging to split parts too, I guess.’_

_‘I was exaggerating…alright. But wouldn’t you be stressed if I brought you to meet a pre-existing group of like eight or nine? All of whom already knew each other.’ Chris quickly continued, ‘depending on who the new addition is, I’ll just ask one of you – or something – to meet them first.’_

_‘Yeah. That works I guess,’ Changbin still seemed a bit concerned about the idea of twenty people._

Chris hadn’t told Jisung too much about the new addition. Just that he and Jisung were the same age, shared personality traits, and that the new member was also Australian.

The fact that Chris considered Jisung good enough to meet someone the older thought so dearly of, warmed the young rapper’s heart. Jisung just hoped he met Chris’s expectations – which was part of why he’d left dance practice early to get to the café.

Jisung admired Chris, the way a flower might admire the sun; he didn’t want to let his hyung down.

Chris was there already, two drinks in front of him, and across from him was a tall gangly kid with black hair and speckled skin – who Jisung assumed must be Felix. He seemed nervous, though active in whatever conversation he was having.

Jisung wasn’t sure why the kid was nervous. After all, they were supposedly the same age and Jisung wasn’t better than anyone else.

In the thirty seconds between Jisung noticing the two and him moving to them, the young producer decided he and Felix would be great friends.

Hoping to make a good impression, and ward off the other’s anxiety, Jisung slid into the booth next to Felix without pause and slung his arm over the other’s shoulders. “You must be Felix. I’m Jisung,” he tried to speak even and articulately in case the Aussie’s Korean wasn’t fully developed. Up close Jisung could see all the freckles that littered his new friend’s skin, “English is alright too…but I’m not that great.” He added in English with a smile.

“What’d I say ‘lix? Jisungie is harmless, no need to worry about him,” the pride in Chris’s voice warmed Jisung’s heart further. “You guys are practically the twins too. Jisung, Felix here was born on the fifteenth of September.”

Jisung’s mind took a second to put the English together, “Uh, really? I’m born on the fourteenth! See we’re already friends.” The rapper tried hard hoping his English was passable; even after studying for as long as he did he still felt slightly insecure about it.

Suddenly, Felix’s deer-in-the-headlights look took on something more vibrant and Jisung felt the younger melt into him as he did, “Really mate? That’s great. I kind of only know Chris.” Felix admitted somewhat shyly, “and your English is great! Way better than my Korean.” The sunshine boy flung his arm over Jisung’s shoulders too.

“Then we can help each other practice.”

Chris smiled at them, beaming with pride, and slid the sugary coffee drink to Jisung.

“Of course we can!” Felix squeezed Jisung as he spoke.

*~*~*~*

The next time Jisung saw Felix his blood boiled. The two had been messaging back and forth regularly; in a mixture of Korean and English. Normally Jisung would write out a text in Korean and then the English translation in the following message – Felix did the same, but in the opposite order. It worked well, and it helped Jisung to know that Felix wasn’t judging his, probably, below-average English too.

Even though Jisung had only known the Australian sunshine for a week, he couldn’t imagine not knowing Felix. They clicked too well.

It was about ten in the morning on a Thursday, Jisung had just finished a vocal lesson – which always stressed him out a bit. People would compliment his range and power, but his vocals needed a lot of practice. He knew he wasn’t a singer; he was a rapper. But if people, like Chris, thought his vocals could be useful someday he assumed he might as well train them. Point being, Jisung was a bit high strung when he walked in on Felix being harassed by a group of new, or at least unrecognizable, trainees.

Despite some people’s opinions, Jisung wasn’t stupid nor was he naïve. He understood people judged; joked; mocked; criticized. People did those things for a number of reasons. Maybe they were jealous, maybe insecure. However, that never gave someone the right to attack another person; not in Jisung’s eyes anyway.

Thankfully, Jisung could tell that Felix wasn’t following the xenophobic and hateful words being tossed at him; a small blessing. Felix was too nice to have to deal with that kind of garbage.

Jisung had just reached them when the tallest of the three idiots decided words weren’t working. Felix’s books hit the ground just as Jisung went off; careful to keep his speed up in the hopes his friend wouldn’t understand and ask about what had been said prior.

“What gives you the right to attack someone just because they aren’t from Korea? No. You don’t get to answer, because there isn’t a reason. I suggest you leave now before I report your xenophobic ass to Park Jinyoung himself and see what he has to say about such vulgar behavior representing the future of his company.” Jisung paused for a second not breaking eye contact with the now rather pathetic looking teens in front of him, “Or, better yet, I can just make sure that every person I know understands exactly how disgusting you are. I wonder how Jackson-hyung, Chris-hyung, Bambam-hyung, and Nichkhun-hyung would react?” Jisung managed to maintain his cold demeanor as the group quickly departed, but soon dissolved into uncertainty.

Sure, he knew Bambam well enough – he was good friends with Chris. But he had only spoken to Jackson once and never actually met Nichkhun. Uncertainty built-in Jisung’s gut. He hoped they would not take offense to him not only using their names but doing so as casually as he did.  

Jisung’s discomfort was pushed aside when Felix, who the rapper had nearly forgotten about, pulled him into a hug. “Thanks mate!” as he released the Aussie added, “that was awesome,” in Korean.

“I’m sorry…” he didn’t bother to use English, the tension dissipated off of Jisung’s body so fast he actually felt lightheaded.

“For what?” Felix pulled back, eyeing Jisung with genuine concern.

Felix was too kind, too sweet, to have someone bully him for such a stupid reason. The very thought that his friend might have already dealt with it before stung Jisung’s eyes, “I’m sorry about those guys. That you had to sit through that.” He hung his head slowly – partially because he was a little ashamed of the small tears forming and partially because the world was still spinning somewhat. “Sorry I was late.”

“Sungie~ stop that!” It was amazing how much Felix’s Korean had improved in the last week, “You did nothing wrong. Let’s go get boba before practice! I’ll pay.”

Jisung laughed quietly, “Sounds good, but the others are going to be jealous.” He took the moment to pull himself together and then slung his arm over Felix, “Which is great! Chris-hyung will be whiny, which will make Changbin-hyung laugh and annoy slash entertain Woojin-hyung. While probably confusing Seungminie.”

“We could always bring one back for Seungminie too! Then it would be perfect.”

“I like the way you think ‘lix. I like the way you think.” He paused again, letting Felix lead the way,  eventually speaking again “If it ever happens again, I mean not just those guys but anyone, come to me alright? Or, like talk to me.” Jisung shifted embarrassed almost sliding his arm off the other, “you don’t deserve it. Okay?”

Felix chuckled kindly and pulled himself closer, preventing the rapper from pulling away, “Alright Ji. I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next section will be Woojin - it will not be posted tomorrow XD But I didn't want to just have an intro up and nothing else. 
> 
> Hopefully this isn't too bad, sometimes I feel like my writing gets away from me and only garbage is left >_< ANYWAY, thanks for reading <3


	3. Woojin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly finished writing this beast believe it or not (I don't XD)  
> Hope you enjoy!!

When Jisung first saw Woojin he was a bit star struck. Here was this guy, who trained at SM and got into numerous different companies, had an amazing voice, a great laugh, was a living teddy bear of kindness, and had looks to top it off – the charm was never-ending.

Chris had brought Woojin into the studio the day after approaching the idea of creating a larger project group – Jisung had been speechless.

Metaphorically of course.

Woojin was super nice, warm, and friendly, but his prestige was intimidating and made Jisung feel small. The younger knew he was pretty insignificant compared to the vocalist; especially with regards to looks, kindness, and singing.

Of course, Jisung would never tell this to Woojin. It wasn’t the older’s fault Jisung felt so insignificant next to him; nor was he the only one. The young rapper remembers similar feelings of inadequacy when he first met Chris – the super talented veteran trainee, with looks and kindness – and again when Changbin joined into the fold – highlighting just how little Jisung actually knew about rapping and lyrics. Jisung had been responsible for overcoming those feelings and he would do it again.   

Even with the initial feelings of inferiority, Jisung wanted the newest addition to feel welcome and did whatever he could to make Woojin feel like part of the group.

Not that Woojin needed much help; his heart was a big as his hugs.

However, there was one thing that Jisung noticed once Felix joined.

Looking back on earlier practices, Jisung could see that Woojin had moments where he was uncomfortable before his near twin entered the pack as well.

The oldest would occasionally stare at Chris when the Aussie was helping the other members. He would frown lightly when Changbin would go to Chris with a question; watch longingly when Seungmin went to Chris for vocal advice; and seemed mildly aggravated when Jisung himself had requested Chris listen to a new piece of music he’d been working on.

The addition of Felix seemed to only increase these instances.

Jisung knew it wasn’t Felix. It was obvious that Woojin cared for the deep-voiced dancer. The older vocalist was even one of the first to pull the younger into a hug and offer a bottle of water to him on the first day.

It wasn’t Chris either. Jisung was sure of it. The two ’97 liners were great friends, even before Jisung had officially met Woojin he had heard of him.

Yet even now the rapper could see Woojin’s mind turning turbulently as the vocalist watched Chris explain something to the maknae of their current roster, with Felix close at hand too. Jisung thought Woojin looked almost jealous.

Jealousy was an awful feeling; it ate away at you – corrupting every thought it touched. It was even more poisonous when you knew the jealousy was irrational. Jisung knew all this far too well. He’d spent some early days jealous of Changbin; feeling pathetic and untalented. As though he had wasted all his time trying to get better.

A feeling which only became more crippling when Changbin turned out to be such a kind and friendly person. Jisung felt like his heart was dripping acid at that point. He had felt so guilty knowing that Changbin didn’t deserve any of those negative feelings.

Thankfully, Changbin was an amazing hyung, who effortlessly shot down Jisung’s praises and rebounded them right back at the younger without too much thought.

“Woojin-hyung,” Jisung grabbed an unopened water bottle from the small fridge as he started towards the older, “I was wondering if you could help me out with my vocals?”

Woojin’s face brightened noticeably at the question, and Jisung thought he might know where the jealousy came from, “Of course Sungie! Though I’m sure you don’t need much help – you have really strong vocals.”

“For a rapper maybe,” Jisung mumbled honestly, running a hand across the back of his neck.

Woojin flashed a frown and reached forward, running a hand through the rapper’s hair, “Nah, you’re just good. How about we plan something for the weekend; no one will be here so you won’t have to be worried about anything.”

“Yeah,” Jisung couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous anyway, even if he would only be singing in front of his hyung, “Just…you know, don’t laugh.” He added with a grin, trying to play off the insecurity with humor.

“I’ll never laugh if it is something that actually worries you Sungie. Promise.”

Jisung smiled broadly, “Thanks Hyung.” Now he was certain as to the problem he needed – wanted – to help Woojin overcome.

*~*~*~*

The weekend ended up being a bad idea for Jisung. One of his instructors had been out sick early in the week, so Thursday ended up comprising of three rap sessions and three vocal lessons. Then Friday ended up with four back to back dance classes and an all-night producing session with Chris and Changbin. The youngest of the three had got to sleep around five-forty that morning.

It was now eight-fifty-six and Woojin was meeting him at nine.

Jisung was tired. But, this was worth it. Worth it for Woojin and worth if for Jisung’s vocals. Which he did think needed a great deal of help.

The practice room Woojin had sent ended up being the perfect size for a group of two or three, located on the corner of the sixth floor – giving the small room a pretty good view out the window.

He quickly unpacked the two bottles of water and hot teas he’d prepared before leaving his dorm and took a seat to wait for Woojin to get there.

Which thankfully wasn’t that long. Woojin walked in only a couple of minutes after Jisung sat down. “Good morning Sungie.”

“Morning Hyung. How was your week?”

“Mine was really good. Yours, however, I heard was a bit less fun.” The former SM trainee sat down across the table from the rapper and pulled his bag onto his lap. “A little Australian birdy mentioned that you had a late night and a different Australian birdy said you liked cheesecake. So, before we start – let’s have a sweet breakfast.” He pulled a large piece of blueberry cheesecake and two forks from his bag.

“You’re the best hyung ever!”

Woojin smiled and handed one of the forks to Jisung, “I don’t think Chris would like to hear that.”

“Nah!” Jisung took a forkful of cheesecake and offered it Woojin, who opened his mouth after a second of reluctance, “You’re Chris-hyung’s favorite hyung too. Just don’t tell Bambam-hyung.” As soon as Woojin had taken his bite, Jisung dug the fork back in and filled his mouth with a satisfied hum.

There was a pause – which Jisung interpreted as contemplative – during which he passed his hyung the hot tea and water.

“You think I’m higher up than Bambam-hyung, huh?” it was questioned in a joking manner, playful and humorous, but also genuine.

This was it. Woojin felt left out as a hyung. He was the oldest, but not the leader; not the person younger members went to; not the one who ‘needed’ to step forward and help. Those were Chris’s roles.

Woojin wasn’t even one of the founding members of this patchwork group Chris was stitching on.

“Of course Hyung. I mean think about it like this, you are the only hyung who will know everything that’s happening with the group. You’ll understand problems better because you’ll be working to fix them with Chris-hyung in a way Bambam-hyung won’t be able to.” Jisung paused briefly, staring at his empty fork, “When,” though his mind said ‘if,’ “we debut it’s just going to be us. You know? Hyung, you and Chris-hyung are going to be the only things keeping us all sane.”

It was true, they’d be busy; traveling; moving endlessly. Yes, Changbin would help, but Jisung was currently next-in-line age wise and frankly, he felt unprepared for that level of responsibility – sole responsibly anyway. He wanted to be in the middle. To have a network above him – for support and guidance – and to have a flock behind him – to help and guide – it was a selfish desire.

“You really think so Sungie?” Woojin’s question interrupted whatever thought spiral Jisung was going down.

“Huh?”

“That I’ll be important to the group?” Woojin grinned somewhat shyly.

“Of course!”

“Honestly, I was starting to feel like I didn’t really have a place in it. Seungminie is just as good of a vocalist and Chris-ah is the leader.” A smile appeared to cover the underlying embarrassment. “Silly really…”

“Not silly,” Jisung forked another hunk of cheesecake, focusing his eyes on it as he spoke, “Think about this. Chris-hyung is a better producer and lyricist than I am. Changbin-hyung too, and Binnie-hyung is a far better rapper; more direct, more rhythmic.”

“Sungie that’s not-“

Jisung flashed his eyes away from the dessert – maneuvering it into his mouth – and Woojin silenced. “I’ve got a place despite those things. Don’t I?” he reached his fork out for another bite. “We aren’t competing with each other; we support each other.”

Suddenly Woojin’s warm laugh filled the small room, as he too took another forkful, “Are you sure you’re only sixteen?” the vocalist clinched his teeth over the fork, laughing more after looking at Jisung’s questioning face.

“You understand people Jisungie.”

“I do?”

Woojin beamed then, “just one of your many gifts, huh? Let’s finish up this so you can show off that gift of a voice you have.” He added the last cutting off any questions the younger might have had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changbin's chapter is next week! 
> 
> The longest is currently Jeongin's.
> 
> This story is 58 pages in my notebook. I am working on Seungmin's chapter now! 
> 
> ANYWAY-I hope someone liked this! Thank you for reading!


	4. Changbin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illusions to the song 42 and brief mentions of depression/suicide but not in a deep manner. 
> 
> Please enjoy!! <3

The rap trio was always working, well before they had a name and certainly before Chris’s ragtag bunch ever got together. Some nights it would be the three, loud and active, singing potential lines along with improvised raps that might never leave the room. Other days, it would be two of the three, either because an unavoidable schedule kept someone away or – more commonly – Chris’s body would give out; leaving him physically present but otherwise absent, sleeping on the couch where they place him on.

It was rare for anyone to be there alone. Though it did happen. Normally with either Chris or Jisung; the perks and drawbacks of still living at home normally kept Changbin out of the studio unless he was working with one of the others.

On this occasion, however, Jisung not only was alone but had been working alone since the late morning. With Chris bringing the wide-eyed Hyunjin to the coffee shop three weeks ago and Jeongin – with his braces and shy smiles – just last Wednesday, Jisung felt a bit pressured. He wanted his contributions to be as meaningful as Chris’s and as important as Changbin’s – so the young rapper had been trying to perfect his craft.

The stress was only compounded by the existence of 3racha; the new moniker for the rap trio. The three had been making music together for nearly a year and a half now, but in less than two months 3racha was actually releasing music – their music. Nothing spectacular, just uploading to the internet. But it was something. One step closer to launching the whole mismatched group onto the actual stage.

Almost everything the trio planned to drop in February was finished; written, composed, recorded, the lot. But, just the thought that a person unknown to the eight hopeful boys might listen to one of 3racha’s songs was intimidating.

They had a system. They would talk to each other about the themes – the intentions – behind the track, they’d craft lyrics and share those lyrics, create a rough track; edit, redo, edit, redo, done. The system had plenty of hills and valleys along the way, but it worked for them.

Now there were five others to consider as well. Five other opinions. Five others who’d want lines, who’d want certain melodies, certain lyrics.

And above all, Jisung wanted to give them that. To give them what they wanted. Because they deserved it. Because the hard work the other seven guys have done and will do deserves to be rewarded; to be praised. Because if Chris brings another stray into the mix, or two, or three, they’d also deserve it.

Jisung stuck his pen into his mouth and reached down into his bag to grab another piece of candy, only to sift through the collected wrappers. Instead, he pulled his phone out, it was nearing four. There were a handful of group notifications; scheduling group practices was getting easier as of late because management was starting to take the idea of the group seriously, however, that didn’t mean lessons didn’t interfere with practices. Jisung also had three short messages from Felix, who wasn’t too fond of textual communication. One expressing discontent at the cold weather, one questioning a Korean grammatical usage, and one proclaiming the Aussie had died during his lesson.

So nothing too important had occurred over the five-plus hours he’d been locked away. The ‘nothing’ was making his legs shake in annoyance.

With a dejected sigh, he tossed the phone back into the open bag and removed the pen from his lips. He needed to settle so that he could write.

“Ji? I didn’t think you’d still be here?” Changbin had opened the door briskly without knocking, effectively jolting the younger several centimeters into the air.

“Binnie-hyung,” his heart felt frantic within his chest, “trying to kill me, huh? But, yeah I’m still here. Got a lot to work on.”

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Changbin chuckled warmly at the younger’s antics, “I figured I’d put a couple hours in before heading home.”

“How was your rap lesson?” Jisung questioned as the other sat across from him, “Mine was kind of a nightmare this morning.”

“Yeah, teach was certainly in a mood. She got annoyed at me for not using the song she had suggested, but I kept telling her that we planned to use Runner’s High at the next eval.” He sounded annoyed, but there was an undertone of affection; their rap instructor always gave it her all. “Why was she on your case then? Too much Runner’s High?” Changbin flashed a grin and pulled his computer out, propping it on the table.

“Nah, she was just annoyed that I’d been dancing before the lesson. You know, she likes to nag about sleep and rest and stuff.” He huffed dramatically pointing at Changbin with his pen, “I made the mistake of eating my breakfast in the hall outside of the lesson room.”

This caused the older rapper to laugh, “Shit. You’re lucky she was just annoyed then. Last time I got caught doing that, I thought she’d straight up send me home.”

“I was almost hoping that she’d do that – I’d of gotten here earlier. But, instead, I just got an earful,” Jisung let his upper body collapse onto the table to further illustrate how unbearable the ‘earful’ must have been, grinning brightly at Changbin’s continued laughter.

They settled into their typical working silence after that, slight pen scratching sounds and sporadic typing replaced the friendly banter.

“I’m going to order chicken, Sung. You hungry?” Changbin had exclaimed sometime later.

The question startled the younger boy, “Oh. Yeah, actually,” he reached back into his wrapper filled bag and pulled out his phone again; it was four-forty-seven. “Jeez~ it’s nearly five.”

Changbin snorted and shook his head, “You’re as bad as Chris-hyung. One day I’ll just walk in on your skeletons. Yours with a pen between your teeth and his bent over a computer – hands still on the keys.” He snorted again at his joke as he stood to make the order from the hall.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jisung waved it off in mock offense, “You wouldn’t even notice our bones Hyung!” he howled the last part as the door closed. The young rapper snickered lightly and finally responded to Felix; who’d sent another two messages – requesting a movie night in the near future, Jisung had yet to see Alien, and asking which type of cheesecake Jisung preferred. That boy was always up to something – and Jisung liked it.

“Sungie – Should I be embarrassed?” Changbin questioned as he reentered, “The restaurant guy recognized my phone number and asked ‘all three today?’ and I said ‘no just two.’ So he responded, ‘classic and, let me guess, spicy.’” Changbin flopped back down, “We order so often, he knows what we always get.”

“Nah, they’ll start getting confused once the orders start to change when we all start ordering together.” The younger answered giggling slightly. He stopped, however, when he noticed a slight shift in mood. Prodding gently, Jisung clicked his pen and asked, “What are you working on anyway, Hyung? Most the 3racha stuff is done already – so new stuff?”

Changbin leaned back, “Yeah, new stuff. Chris-hyung says we should try and prepare tracks – at least beats and stuff. He’s worried that management will be looking for reasons to split us up.”

Jisung was silent for a few seconds. Chris hadn’t expressed that fear to him. The older loved the idea of Jisung being the maknae and often tried to shield him from things or this nature; especially with regards to the management or the company. Granted, Changbin often shared so it wasn’t like Jisung was ever really in the dark, “Anything good?”

“I don’t know.” The older rapper sounded frustrated, “I mean yeah, I guess. But…”

“But what Hyung?”

Changbin frowned at his computer, “I mean, when we write stuff for us, the three of us,” he paused, “The three of us can sit and talk about anything, right? We can write about your fears of not meeting expectations, or Chris-hyung’s depression, or whatever. I can throw out random dumb ideas or themes. We understand each other, can be honest with each other.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, “We’ll listen or talk about it. See if there’s a song in that fear or feeling, right? It’s always real, you know?”    

Jisung was struck by Changbin’s words. It was all true. The three of them were always, or nearly, one-hundred percent honest with each other. Jisung wasn’t sure when it started; if it was when they started writing together or if it was before that. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“So what happens now? See our truths are one thing right, but what about the others?” he closed his eyes and leaned back, “Should we bother them with some of those topics? Does Jeongin need to sing about suicide?”

Jisung understood that question; that fear. Did Jeongin, or any of the others, need to sing about suicide? Maybe. “What about their truths?”

Changbin looked up, straight into Jisung’s eyes, silently asking the younger to continue.

“They’re all going to have their own fears and concerns; their own truths. Right, Hyung?” he ran his teeth over his bottom lip for a moment, “and maybe they won’t be the same, but they’ll be just as real. And maybe Jeongin or Seungmin or Felix will have a line in a song that doesn’t reflect ‘their’ truth, but so might we.” Jisung’s eyebrows came together then as he tried to think of his next words – ironic considering he’d been writing about voices all day yet he couldn’t seem to find his own; perhaps that was the point. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, in the end, they’ll still be ‘our’ fears or ideas, right? It’s just ‘ours’ happens to be larger than three now.”

Changbin seemed to relax at that, the stiffness slowly leaving his shoulders, “Yeah. That is true I guess. But don’t you think we should try and shield –“ The phone, which Changbin had dropped face down on the table when he returned, started to vibrate against the fake wood interrupting his thought.

“The chicken is here,” Jisung mumbled.

“Oh yeah. I’ll be right back,” the older grabbed his phone and answered as he exited the room.

Jisung frowned softly at the closed door. It sounded as though Changbin was about to imply that he felt shielding Jeongin was something that should be done. But Jeongin was barely five months younger than Seungmin; slightly more so than Felix. Technically, Jisung was only hours older than the Aussie.

Sometimes those few hours felt much greater though. Felix felt light and pure; bright and shining. Jisung wasn’t sure he met those benchmarks. Maybe those few hours were actually what separated the ‘younger’ members from the ‘older’ members.

His musing was cut short when Changbin returned, arms full of plastic bags and slightly pink cheeks, “They added a half order of the seasoned ones Chris-hyung loves for free; in case he’d showed up by now.”

“When we debut, we’re going to have to hype them,” the younger stood, laughing, and started to clear the table, “They do know us too well.”

Shaking his head, Changbin placed the bags down and allowed Jisung to unpack them, “You were right, by the way.” He grabbed the chopsticks when they were offered, “as long as we write music that’s honest, it doesn’t matter whose story we are telling.” He capped off the conversation by popping a large piece of chicken into his mouth.

Jisung was going to bring up his previous musings, but thought better of it, “I’m always right.”

Changbin apparently saw that coming because he shoved a piece of chicken into his friend’s face just as the younger finished the invalid statement. Then laughed at the youngest’s look of indignation. “Come over tonight. We can try to map out future tracks in the morning before meeting up with Chris-hyung at eleven.”

“Oh yeah – at that arcade? Sure. Sounds good Hyung.” Jisung smiled pulling another piece of food into his mouth,  and then, mimicking Changbin, returned to his half written lyrics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzay! Thanks for reading! All the chapters are now written, I am currently just typing (because I hand write everything @_@) and editing them. Surprisingly, I succeeded in finishing before NaNo! 
> 
> Anyway! Thanks again for reading. Hopefully, some of you enjoyed it. Hyunjin's chapter is next.
> 
> Also-I am going to put this story and Sweet Like Sugar into a series. I really enjoy writing these characters and figure that if I do more (in this timeline) in the future they might as well be together!


	5. Hyunjin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NaNo has begun... Anyway, I hope you enjoy <3

Nine. Minho made nine. Jisung knew he was easy to scare and somewhat – very – sentimental, but he didn’t think he was superstitious or that he believed in fate. But, when Chris – no when Chan introduced Minho, Jisung knew the group was nine.

Now things were tense. They had successfully proved themselves; once. Of course, once wasn’t enough for the company or the management. No one was safe in Jisung’s eyes – barring Chan.

It was odd using the new name – it felt wrong, but Jisung knew his hyung deserved it. Deserved it more than the other eight probably. Chris was that kid who auditioned; who was stuck in the JYP building; who watched his friends move forward without him. But Chan. Chan would debut. He’d lead the group he created. He’d write music for them, worry for them, love them; and be loved. Not just by them, but by everyone.

Jisung sighed as he flipped his notebook open to another yet unblemished page – he wanted a stage name too. One that he could hold proudly. He had to wait though. He needed to get through this reality show first; to bring his friends through it first. However, the thought was intoxicating.

He’d need a stage name of course; Jisung was overused. He liked J.One, but if Changbin dropped ‘SpearB’ then he assumed J.One should stay with 3racha. Jisung knew he wasn’t alone either. Minho would need to have to go by something else – Jeongin, even Seungmin maybe.

“Stop Jisung.” He chided himself quietly, “let’s just get everyone to the starting line first.”

They’d filmed a music video together already, it felt real, but JYP hadn’t let up. His comments over the last few weeks left Minho emotionally reserved, Jeongin singing so much he’d strained his voice, and Hyunjin cutting the edges of his poor mouth with a cheap pen.

The others were worried too, Chan most notably affected. However, Jisung wanted – tried – to maintain faith that they’d debut. As nine.

The young rapper slammed his notebook shut, it was too late and he’d been here too long already. When he’d set up shop a few hours ago, the practice rooms had been filled – Chan, Hyunjin, and Felix among the people occupying them. So Jisung had taken a corner of their dance studio, the lights had clicked off automatically about fifty minutes before he gave up and (in his laziness) he’d been using the light from his phone. His movement triggered the overheads as he shifted, and brought the space out of the heavy gloom.

It seemed empty without the others.

After gathering his scattered belongings, and some crumbled pages he had tossed aside earlier but now felt should be revisited, Jisung made quick work of shutting off the lights and making his way towards the exit.

Along the way, Jisung made it a point to check on the rooms he knew his teammates had been in. The small room he’d seen Felix in earlier was empty, door open, with the light from the hallway Jisung could make out the Korean words – erased but still visible – on the whiteboard in the back of the room.

The next room, often holding a member of their group, was next to the stairs; light still streaming out of the small slit window. Jisung sighed at the sight, carefully peering into the room to see if Chan was at least awake; he was.

His – hopefully – future leader seemed deep into whatever track he was manipulating. Instead of interrupting, Jisung decided to send a message once he got home; give his hyung a bit more time before breaking his creativity.

Hyunjin had been a few floors below, so Jisung quietly slipped into the stairwell and down the few flights. This floor was much more active; pulsing music could be felt through the walls and Jisung could see a few unnamed trainees practicing with vigor.

The ambient noise dissipated some the further away from the stairs Jisung went. A few empty rooms here and there.

Unsurprisingly, Jisung found Hyunjin still practicing, pacing around the small room – pen still firmly held between his teeth and forcing the edges of his mouth to strain against it.

Hyunjin was a great rapper and an amazing dancer. It was painful to watch him try so desperately to fix his weaknesses. At the same time, the determination Jisung saw floored him. This was why Hyunjin _had_ to debut with him. Stray Kids _needed_ someone like Hyunjin; _needed_ that determination and dedication.

When they’d split ways a few hours ago, Jisung had contemplated offering to help. But he’d ultimately backed down, doubting his ability to do so.

Jisung knew he was talented, but he wasn’t talented enough to give any meaningful help. Of course, there was a difference between helping and not helping. Regardless of how much you can actually offer. If nothing else, Jisung could at least offer an ear and support he supposed.

He waited until Hyunjin finished whatever verse he was practicing, then opened the door in a flourish. “Hyunjinie~ you still working? I’m about to head home.”

Hyunjin jerked, covering it by removing the pen from his lips, “If you’re heading home, why are you here?” the questioning quip could have come off as accusatory if not for the smile, “this is the room farthest from the elevator.”

Jisung smiled radiantly, fully entering the room, “Well, I wanted to see who else was still here.” He took the opportunity to take a seat one of the chairs along the wall, “plus words weren’t coming for me.”

The dancer seemed stiff, but not exactly uncomfortable, “Why aren’t words coming? You never seem to have trouble.”

This was one of Jisung’s favorite things about Hyunjin. The older boy was, externally, so striking. He almost came off as detached or cold. Internally, however, Hyunjin was soft – clingy almost – and extremely affectionate. Jisung loved the dynamic nature of Hyunjin and he imagined fans would as well. The older was deep and warm, it was comforting in the way family often was.

“Yeah, I’m not super sure. Just too much stuff going on I guess, you know?”

Hyunjin’s face softened, flashing mild concern, “I get that.” He moved to the other open chair, “if we all get to debut together it will be a miracle.”

“We will,” he meant it.

The taller cracked his neck and pursed his lips, “I hope so.”

Jisung leaned into the chair a bit more, “How about you? I know you were working on Hellevator,” he glanced quickly at the angry red marks which stained the edges of Hyunjin’s mouth. “Any progress?”

“I think so. I hope so anyway,” he seemed to shift them, finally relaxing. “Maybe.”

“You’re good Hyunjinie. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“You will be. You, Chri-Chan-hyung, Changbin-hyung, probably Woojin-hyung, and Seungminie…” Again while the words could have held some negative undertone they didn’t, they sounded proud. “I think the rest of us are on some grotesque chopping block. The rest of us are going to have to work for it differently.”

Jisung waited for Hyunjin to continue. The older boy clearly had more to say and it was better to allow him to say it rather than leaving it unsaid and festering. Despite wanting to interject.

It took a few more minutes before Hyunjin spoke again, “Sometimes it feels like you three have no ceiling; no limit. Whereas, the rest of us can see our limits,” his face took on a disgusted sneer. “I hate thinking that. It’s not fair to you guys. I know how hard you three guys work. It’s not as though any of you woke up perfect.” His frustration seemed to be eating at him.

Jisung gnawed at his lower lip, “it’s alright to feel that way. I mean, I’m not bothered by it,” _lie_ , “but I do disagree. I can’t really speak for Chan-hyung or Changbin-hyung, but I always feel the ceiling.” Hyunjin seemed somewhat upset, but Jisung continued honestly, “I don’t think it’s about feeling, or not feeling, having, or not having, a limit. Right? It’s about refusing to accept the existence of that limit, or pushing through regardless of its existence.” He shifted thoughtfully, “Everyone on this team deserves to be in Stray Kids. You are extremely talented. I can’t dance like you, or Minho-hyung or Felix.”

“I shouldn’t feel jealous of you of the others.” Hyunjin restated, with a touch of desperation, “You shouldn’t have to be okay with it…”

Jisung smiled warmly, “It’s human Hyunjinie.”

“I don’t care,” the older huffed dramatically. Then squinted, almost sheepishly, “Do you get jealous? Of any of us, I mean.”

“Are you kidding me!?” flinging his hands theatrically, “Duh! Have you heard the tracks Chan-hyung and Changbin-hyung create? Or seen yourself? Seen how fluidly you move?” Jisung’s hair fell into his eyes as he rolled his head back for emphasis. “But those things just make me work harder.”

“Yeah. Right.” Hyunjin stood grabbing the pen from earlier, “Will you listen once? Then we can head home together.”

Jisung nodded eagerly, “go for it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope someone enjoyed this XD And if you are like me and currently NaNoWriMoing - Good Luck
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Minho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is alright <3

Jisung had always been an emotional person. Not always in a dramatic or obvious way. Sometimes it was quiet and contemplative. He’d tried to keep the pain silent when Minho left and again when Felix was taken; for their sake; for Chan’s; for his. Jisung had forced as much emotion as he possibly could to that deep endless pit inside. That place where people shove things they can’t, or won’t, deal with – ever.

The night after Felix left, 3racha had to write lyrics. It was brutal. The youngest tried to help, or distract. Except it was nearly impossible. Their lyrics had been dark that night.

When Minho and Felix returned, it was like someone finally noticed the heat had stopped working and fixed the broken machine. Everything was suddenly hot, though not quite scalding or searing, just so warm.

It relaxed – but didn’t heal. All of them felt the lingering burn from the eliminations like the raw sting felt as a cut finally starts to close. Even after the show ended and they were nine, nothing was fully healed; for any of them.

Jisung knew Felix and Minho had to feel that residual pulsing worse than the others; worse than himself surely. Even if there were moments he’d wake up with the feeling of loss, irrational but real, and try to find some solitude to cry or scream until he could bury it again – deeper. He merely witnessed it, they had lived through it.

Despite, or perhaps in spite, of those feelings of loss or separation. The nine worked in tandem timelessly towards debut – actual debut. They’d released their pre-debut album, there was a date set, they all knew District 9 by heart. It was not just a thought, but an actual thing coming up in days.

They had their final showing for JYP at seven-fifteen in the evening – not really a worrying performance, though it still set everyone on edge.

Jisung had decided extra practice would help settle his nerves, if not further solidify his performance. So he’d left the dorms even before the others had woken up. The anticipation was painful at this point, he wondered how Chan was actually feeling. The leader never seemed scared, but he had to be – they all had to be.

He hadn’t noticed the splashes of sweat accumulating on the floor, so when his left foot came down at a slight angle he wasn’t anticipating it sliding out and his whole body ended up sprawled on the hardwood. His shoulder collided first – forcing the air out of his lungs, his hip a second later, and then his head; though not with the same amount of force. His eyes closed against the sudden agony that wrapped around his chest and the low ringing behind his ears.

Cold unexpectedly covered the side of his face, and he’d of jumped had his mind not been otherwise occupied. However, the odd sensation brought Jisung back into his body.

“Jisung! Jisung!”

The cold was a hand, Jisung’s mind understood.

“Sung! I swear, open your eyes.”

“Shit,” the rapper finally whined as the ringing tapered off.

Minho was clearly terrified and concerned, “Good. What hurts? How’s your head?” the dancer’s hands still cradled Jisung’s face and neck; now warmed from the younger’s skin.

“I’m good.” The reply was hasty, trying to cover the obvious embarrassment, “just slipped.”

The elder scoffed with disregard and moved his hands to the other side of the rapper’s head – where it struck the floor, “Does it hurt Sung? We should ice it…” he curled his hands down under Jisung and helped him sit up, then leaned over to examine the younger more closely. “You came down hard.”

“Yeah. Stupid clutz, huh?” he brought his hand up to his head almost fearfully – the last thing he wanted was to sit out debut due to a self-induced concussion.

Minho slapped Jisung’s back – careful of the shoulder that hit the floor – in playful reprimand, “You were focused, not clutzy. I once slipped on a small piece of confetti. Nearly broke my collarbone trying to catch myself.”

“I didn’t even notice I was falling, so I didn’t think to catch myself.”

“Probably a good thing Sungie.” Minho smiled warmly and then his eyebrows pinched again, “Does your head hurt? Or do you feel ill? Seriously, please.”

Jisung paused for a second and let his hands fall to his sides, “I think I am fine.”

“Think?”

“I mean, my shoulder doesn’t feel great, but I don’t think I hit my head that hard.”

“Uh huh,” Minho sounded skeptical, but let his lingering hand fall away. “I’m going to go grab you ice. Stay sitting.” The dancer stood back up, “please.” He added as he turned.

Jisung shook his head lightly, not in response, just in disbelief. If Minho hadn’t of returned to their group he’d not have his brother back, and he’d likely still be whining on the floor.

Slowly, he stood up, blinking against the brief dizziness, and moved the short distance to the couch against the wall. Jisung would have started to practice again, it if weren’t for the disappointment and concern that’d probably be expressed by Minho.

“I told you not to move!”

Jisung did jump that time, “I’m sorry.” The rapper shied away as Minho pressed the ice pack – wrapped in a thin grey towel – to his head, “I just didn’t want to be on the floor.” He brought his hand up to replace Minho’s, “it’s only half a meter walk Hyung. I was fine.”

The dancer scowled deeply, but sighed in defeat, “that was terrifying Sung…” he dropped onto the cushions next to Jisung, “I swear, you fell right as I opened the door. I thought I’d startled you or something.”

“Nah,” the ice was making him shiver, “I just slipped. Wasn’t paying enough attention, I guess.”

Minho leaned back against the cushions further, almost cuddling into it. “I thought I’d be the only one here this morning.”

“Didn’t you see my note? I left it on the mirror.”

“No-I saw the note but I didn’t read it.” He barked a laugh, “I assumed it was Seungminie telling you to put something away again.”

“Why leave a note at all, if it’s not being read?”

Minho laughed again, light and playful, “I missed you.”

The statement hung there in the brightly lit practice room.

“I missed you too,” Jisung replied, letting the ice slip further down onto his cheek.

Minho repositioned the younger’s hand without even glancing over, the way a parent might fix a child’s shirt. “I can’t believe I’m back.” He lowered his hand, letting it rest on Jisung’s knee. “I tried to imagine what it was going to be like. You know? How was it going to feel watching my best friends debut? Would I have been happy or sad?” his free hand ran through his hair, and he continued with a  hollow sigh. “I tried to imagine how I’d feel watching you guys winning an award. I wish, hoped, I’d be happy.”

“Minho-hyung,”

“But I wouldn’t be. I’d of just…” he squeezed Jisung’s knee gently. “When Felix joined me, I…god it’s awful to say…but I was…happy…”

“You weren’t alone anymore. It’s only natural.”

“No. Don’t be understanding.” Minho removed his hold, repositioning the ice pack again, and ran his hand through his hair, “be angry.”

“No.” Jisung turned more fully towards Minho, ignoring the dull ache in his hip, “I thought about it too. What it would be like to see you debut later. Without us. About how it would feel competing against you rather than working with you.” He tried to lower the ice pack but was stopped again – with a glare. “It was devastating when you left. And it was devastating when Felix did.” He let Mino take over holding the ice, “But…I hoped that you both would end up together. I started to hope that, at least, you both would end up in a group together.”

“You did?”

“Yeah! We are a group, and I thought if we couldn’t be together as nine, that we should at least be together as seven and two – or five and four – or however. You know?”

There was another bout of silence, filled partially by the slight sound of trainees entering the rooms below them; without the normal noise in the practice room, the hum from below was more audible than normal.

Jisung wouldn’t admit it, but his head was starting to throb a bit – pulsing along with his hip and shoulder. This wasn’t the time for that, Minho had been reserved since his return; he had been so anxious before he’d left. Something was bothering him. Maybe it was this, or maybe it was something deeper. So Jisung wasn’t going to complain just yet. Minho was important. It was fine.

The silence lingered for longer than Jisung would have liked, but Minho eventually broke it. “Do you think I’m good enough to be in the group? Honestly, not as a friend or whatever, but based on my skills. Am I good enough to be _in_ the group?”

“Yes,” there wasn’t any hesitation – no pause – and the word was honest and pure.

“Really? Because I feel like I’m back because of the people who watched the show. Not because I’m skilled. I mean, Sung,” he allowed his hand to drop, bringing the ice pack down momentarily. “Compared to the rest of you…” he moved the melting pack back up with a frown.

“You are plenty talented, Hyung. You pick up things extremely fast. You’re extraordinarily dedicated and determined. Lot’s of people leave the company Hyung – they get told ‘no’ and they never return.” He’d feared that would happen. That he would call Minho or Felix and only find their phones disconnected, or discover that they left JYP and entered some other company. “You only get better.”

The conversation was hovering somewhere between their typical level of familiarity and something deeper.

“Okay.” Minho seemed less tense suddenly, relaxed even, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Jisung repeated offhandedly.

“Now.”

“Now?”

The dancer smiled brightly, handing the ice pack to Jisung once more, while he stood, “We are going to take a trip to the infirmary because you aren’t dancing unless I’m sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“I don’t…”

“Then you’ll be practicing with us no problem,” he hefted the rapper up, holding his arms tightly as though he anticipated Jisung to stagger.

He didn’t. But Minho didn’t release Jisung, instead, he just moved his arms so that it crossed over both shoulders.

“You are paranoid~”

“And your brains are scrambled more than usual.”

“No more than your brains.”

“As if!” Jisung leaned into Minho’s side. Stray Kids were nine.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NaNo is still chugging along! Have a great week and thanks for reading <3


	7. Jeongin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is a bit late....and long...NaNo is starting to become challenging

Sleep was something Jisung always loved. He could fall asleep almost anywhere; could sleep through almost anything. His favorite places to curl up and nap were couches bathed in sunlight with the soft buzz of a conversation or television playing in the background and buried under blankets. Jisung had discovered, in recent days, how much more he loved sleep when it came after a stage.

He had gone to sleep that morning around three – Chan, Changbin and he were already working on the final touches to tracks on their first and second comeback albums – and slept until noon. Then ate lunch and took a nap.

Under normal circumstances, nothing but a blaring alarm, or perhaps Chan’s icy hands, would have woken him up. Especially, with how rare a day off had become – and would continue to be.

Three loud unusual sounds worked equally as well as an alarm; the sound of a door slamming somewhere outside of the room; Woojin’s voice raised at a level of annoyance Jisung hadn’t heard before; and the unrecognizable voiced apology.  

When Jisung opened his eyes the mid-afternoon sun had moved off his body and was illuminating his discarded sweatshirt on the floor. Something he should pick up, if for no other reason than to prevent Seungmin’s mild wrath.

Whoever had returned to the dorm in a mood disruptive enough to set off Woojin, had not entered Jisung’s room. Though, it sounded like he’d went to the nearest bathroom.

It was rare for any of them to get upset to the point of expressing it, or at least to the point where they’d allow personal annoyances to affect the others. So curiosity and concern drew Jisung from the warmth of his bed. The sweatshirt, which was heated from the sun, felt great against his bare arms as it slipped over his head and shoulders; though the lack of blankets brought gooseflesh to his exposed legs.

Jisung turned straight for the living are upon exiting his room, hoping to further investigate the earlier noise and, maybe, sneak a soda from Woojin’s stash – more likely asking permission before doing so.

The dorm was relatively quiet – Chan had been a bit forceful in requesting it remain that way for the day, _‘it’s our first real day off since before the reality show. Jisungie, Binnie, and I have been working really late the last few weeks. Not to mention Wooj’s practice or Jeongin’s studies. Let’s just have tomorrow be peaceful. Alright?’_ It had been an easy sell – the sound of muffled music and voices from the television were really the only notable sounds.

“Morning – or evening – Sungshine.”

Jisung felt aggravation, albeit significantly more adoration, at the nickname, “Shut up ‘lix! You’ve got no room to talk Sunshine boy.”

Felix grinned brightly, but it was Woojin – currently trapped under Felix’s grip and enjoying it – who laughed richly. The oldest seemed relaxed and his face, winning smile included, showed no sign of the earlier annoyance.

“You look a lot better Sungie. I was worried you might be getting sick when you wandered out for lunch,” Woojin tilted his head to the side as he spoke, hair brushing against Felix’s chin, “You seemed super out of it.”

Felix agreed, brightness falling marginally.

“Did I?” the rapper used the sleeve of his pink sweatshirt to rub his left eye, “I think I was just really tired.”

Felix seemed to nearly coo at his friend’s action, motioning for Jisung to join them on the small sectional, which took little convincing. Felix unwrapped himself from Woojin enough to allow the other to fit snuggly between them. Once Jisung was within his grasp, Felix stretched his long limbs over him. Firmly hugging both the eldest and the rapper.

Jisung sunk into the warmth with a low hum, leaning his head into Felix’s shoulder and weaving his arms around Woojin, “the door woke me up.” Jisung had expected a physical reaction from Woojin, but the older simple sighed.

“Jeonginie came home,” Felix pitched his voice low and Jisung could feel it vibrate in his head, “he didn’t say anything. We tried to ask, but you know…”

“I figured we should let him calm down first,” Woojin sounded unhappy, “It was his first day going to class in a few weeks.”

“He had that test, right?” Jisung mumbled trying to piece together the situation.

“Yeah, I think so,” Felix responded tugging both of the others closer to him.

Jisung had an idea what caused Jeongin’s unusual behavior but he agreed with Woojin. The youngest wasn’t a big fan of confiding his problems to others, so letting him wait and gather his thoughts was a good plan.

Jisung’s relationship with Jeongin had always been unique. Jeongin embodies youth. From his clear and fun personality to his braces and endearing smile. Jisung, in turn, easily fluctuated from fun-loving and carefree to professional and dedicated. They clicked.

For Jisung, Jeongin was the only person he felt like a ‘hyung’ to – he and Felix were hours apart and the Australian supported Jisung as much as Jisung supported him. And Seungmin was a mere eight days younger. Jisung was no more a ‘hyung’ to the vocalist than a kindergartener was a teacher to a fellow kindergartener.

He wanted to be friends with Jeongin, but he also wanted to help Jeongin. To look out for Jeongin.

“Relax Ji,” Felix mumbled again, voice still close to the other’s head, “You’re hurting my arm.”

Jisung leaned forward for a moment, to further pull on the younger, before listening to the request and relaxing, “Sorry ‘lix.”

In response, Felix briefly dug his heel, which had been resting gently on the rapper, into Jisung’s thigh. Earning a pained grunt before easing up.

“You two are ridiculous.” Woojin chuckled warmly.

The three remained in the same tangled knot for the next hour. Until hunger started to gnaw at them.

It was Woojin who shifted first – inciting whines and whimpers of complaint from the September twins – wiggling out from under Jisung’s and Felix’s legs, which had moved to cover him in the last twenty minutes, he spoke, “I’m ordering chicken before Channie gets home and tried to stop me.” He ruffled Felix’s and Jisung’s hair fondly before pulling out his phone and moving into the kitchen.    

In the eldest’s absence Felix curled around Jisung further, “You going to talk to Jeonginie?” the English was muttered soft and prodding. Not that Jisung needed to answer; Felix already knew.

“If he’ll talk to me, I will.” It was a habit for the two of them to speak English with each other when they were alone. Odd, considering the Aussie’s often spoke in Korean with each other. “I don’t like thinking he’s upset.”

Felix sighed into Jisung’s hair, tugged him closer, and then slowly retracted his limbs, “I know you don’t.”

Jisung leaned back into the other boy, then stood and stretched. It didn’t take long for him to get to the door hiding the youngest member, though it did take him a beat longer to knock.

“What?” it’s not harsh or angry, but it was tinged with defensiveness.

Jeongin was only defensive, truly defensive, when the problem was personal – something the youngest didn’t want to bother his hyungs with, something he felt wasn’t worth their time or concern.

He was normally wrong. Jisung felt, that the younger cast aside – or tried to – his own problems far more often than he should.

The rapper chose to open the door without responding to the defensive question, “What’s up Jeonginie?”

Jisung was expecting a dismissal – he was expecting to be turned away or cast aside. He was not expecting it to be done with actual rage and sheer fury.

“I don’t want to talk to you – get the hell out!” The pause before Jeongin spoke – waiting to see who was knocking – indicated that the words were meant for Jisung specifically. “Leave.”

The older boy hesitated, completely thrown off by the situation, and then backed out through the still open door, shutting it as he did.

Jeongin didn’t get angry, at least not extremely angry, and certainly never towards a member.

Jisung was split, clearly, their youngest was upset and he doubted that rage was intentionally directed at him. But, misguided or not the anger hurt.

He backed away from the door, feeling entirely lost, and tried to rack his brain for a reason why the youngest might be that angry.

“Sung? You tell Jeongin-ah about the chicken?” Woojin’s voice startled the rapper, causing Jisung to spin around, “Hey. You sure you aren’t sick Sungie?”

“What?” god he hated being emotional sometimes.

Woojin closed the gap and placed his hand on Jisung’s shoulder. He went to open his mouth when the rapper cut him off – politely.

“Just tired Hyung. Still tired I guess.” He swallowed, somewhat thickly, “And, uh, no I didn’t tell Jeongin…didn’t want to bother him. He obviously had a bad day and we only get so much free time and all.”

Woojin wasn’t naïve, nor was he stupid. He probably knew why, at least vaguely, “If you’re sure…I already ordered chicken, but I can get some soup too for you if you’d like.” He didn’t wait for a response, having already made up his mind, “I’ll get Jeongin, you go snuggle with Felix if you’re up to it.”

“Yeah, alight Hyung.” Jisung let himself be pushed in the direction of the main room. “It’s not Jeongin’s fault. Should have given him more time…” he continued to mutter to himself as he moved towards the Aussie – who still sat on the couch.

As expected, the boy opened his arms in welcome and Jisung returned to his previous position; wrapped tightly in the Felix blanket.

Their youngest was probably mad at himself more than he was at Jisung. Jisung knew that feeling of undirected anger that would build up after a long day; it was natural. He knew that words Jeongin had said weren’t really angry, they were…frustrated at the situation and Jisung was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. So he happened to catch a branch in the face; nothing more, nothing less.

Jisung felt long delicate fingers slowly start carding through his hair and he closed his eyes. He wasn’t tired – or he wasn’t any more tired than normal. Yet, with the comforting affection from Felix, he drifted off.

*~*~*~*

“Come on Sungie, food is here.”

“But I’m comfy~” he snuggled back a bit into Felix, who laughed and shoved him forward. When Jisung managed to open his sleep filled eyes, Woojin had already set the food on the short table nearest the couch.

“You sure you’re alright?” Felix whispered as Jisung sat up.

“Just really tired I guess.”

Woojin reentered the room, holding utensils and another container of food, “Jeongin ~ food. Here you go Sungie – I know you say you’re not sick but soups never a bad idea. Plus it’s your favorite.”

“Thanks, Hyung,” Jisung almost sang the words as he reached out for the container.

Jeongin entered as Woojin sat down on the floor, and was clearly still upset but at the same time less high strung then he had been forty minutes ago. “Where are the others?” the youngest questioned, tightly, as he sat next to Woojin.

“Out,” Woojin didn’t elaborate and it was clear to Jisung that the eldest and Jeongin must have had a conversation during his nap.

There were a few beats of semi-awkward silence and then Felix, who had opened the container of soup Jisung had been given, slurped a bit of noodles loudly, “Better with cheese!” he spoke, mouth full, with a smile.

“Ah, gross!” Jisung complained, clearly unbothered, and took a large bite himself, which fully broke the tension.

The three older members, and eventually Jeongin, started planning ways to prank the others – or at least scare them – once they returned as a means of covering up the takeout.

A plan that was tossed aside as soon as the evidence was gone and they began to clean up.

“Hyung?” When all three of the older members turned towards him, Jeongin clarified with slight reluctance, “Sungie-hyung…”

Woojin and Felix continued into the kitchen, leaving the other two alone.

“Let’s go get dessert and movie snacks from the convenience store,” Jisung suggested effortlessly, at the younger’s discomfort, already moving towards the door. “The others were talking about a movie night, we should prepare.”

Jeongin eyed him cautiously, “weren’t you not feeling well?”

The guilt in Jeongin’s voice didn’t sit well with Jisung, and he shook his head dismissively. “I’m fine Jeonginie. Come on, I’ve been inside all day.” He pressed his lips together and playfully puffed out his cheeks.

Jeongin’s lips pulled into a hesitant smile, revealing the light spark of his braces, “Okay Hyung.”

Jisung smiled back, chest easing with the younger’s lack of hostility. “Woojin-Hyung, ‘lix, “ he waited for a grunt from the kitchen, “Jeonginie and I are going to run to the store for snacks. Want anything?”

“Cheese sticks!”

“Wear a scarf Sungie!”

“Sure-sure,” Jisung turned back to the door, shaking his head softly, “Ready Jeonginie?”

The youngest held out a scarf and nodded.

With an exasperated eye-roll, Jisung took the scarf and wrapped it loosely around his neck, “thanks.” He moved to put on his shoes, pausing to grab another scarf and handed it to Jeongin, “if I suffer, you suffer.”

“It’s not even cold outside!” he tied it as he whined.

“All is fair in love and paranoia,” Jisung grinned pulling on his shoe.

It really wasn’t that cold outside, the sun was low but still warmed what it could through the patchy clouds, but the slight breeze made Jisung thankful for the soft scarf.

The streets were busy, though not crowded, the two went unrecognized. The closest store was always open – run by a husband and wife team – but according to Jeongin the snack section was always lacking, so Jisung led the way straight passed that establishment.

About a block further from the dorm stood a large convivence store, perfect for their plans and Jisung’s target.

“Hyung…” Jeongin started, pausing briefly as they crossed a busy street, “I’m really sorry about yelling at you…”

The younger’s unprompted apology both warmed and stung Jisung’s heart; it was his fault too for not giving Jeongin enough time to relax. “It’s fine. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have barged in.”

Their youngest gave an odd sound, deep and annoyed, but it was overshadowed as the pair entered the store. “I shouldn’t have yelled regardless,” he repeated but Jisung had already moved to grab a handheld basket, “Hyung, I’ll carry the stuff.”

“If you say so,” Jisung handed off the basket without argument, “So snacks?

“Cheese sticks!”

“Right – Cheese sticks for our sunshine friend,” Jisung turned dramatically and lifted his foot like a toy soldier before starting off towards the refrigerated section near the back. Jeongin would talk – eventually – about why he’d been upset, but until then Jisung would make the outing lively and lighthearted.

Jeongin chuckled at his hyungs antics and followed with a smile. The chuckles became loud laughs when Jisung unceremoniously piled fifteen plastic covered sticks of cheese into the basket with the words, ‘I better get one of those, or no more cuddles,’ fluttering from the older’s lips.

Some chips, nine wrapped ice cream bars, a bag of small mandarin, a juice pack, some soda, and a bunch of grapes also found their way into the small basket, before the two teens went to check out.

The sun had lowered significantly, as the young idols started home and the wind had picked up with the approaching darkness.

“Sungie-hyung? You think Stray Kids will be successful, don’t you?” Jeongin spoke as the dorms came into view, “That all of us are important, right?”

The older stopped to look at the youngest with his head cocked to the side, “of course. Success will come with hard work.” He waited for Jeongin to stop next to him before continuing, “And yes. We are a group, Jeonginie. Everyone is needed and everyone is important. What happened today?”

Jeongin bit his lip, “You, Chan-hyung, and Changbin-hyung…you guys would never leave us. Would you?”

Jisung walked over to a bench a couple of paces away, he placed the grocery bags down and motioned for the other boy to follow, “No. Why would we leave?” He sat as Jeongin joined him.

“Because,” he sighed but didn’t continue.

Jisung had assumed Jeongin’s earlier anger was connected with a failed test, but now he was starting to think something else had happened, “You know when Chan-hyung started creating Stray Kids – when the company first told him he could – they asked us if 3racha wanted to try and debut.”

“They did?”

“Uh-huh. Chan-hyung didn’t want to say ‘no’ without talking to Changbin-hyung and I, but he also did not want to say ‘yes,’ right? So, Binnie-hyung and I get this message at two-thirty in the morning. It didn’t ask us the question, right? No, it was like, ‘guys. We need to talk…come to the studio.’” Jisung sighed dropping his shoulders.

“At two-thirty? You both must have thought something had happened.”

They had. Jisung remembers frantically rushing out of the dorm, terrified that something horrible had happened to his hyung – or his hyung’s family. So scared, he’d called the Aussie as he started towards the studio sounding frantic and fearful. So much so, that Chan had to explain the situation over the phone to ease Jisung’s worry; he ended up rooming with Chan that night too. But Jeongin didn’t need to know all that.

“Right?! So Binnie-hyung and I get to the studio at the same time and Channie-hyung is just working on music like normal. He just looked up, you know like nothing is going on, and goes ‘Hey, glad you guys could get here so fast. I just needed to make sure. We still want a larger group right? Not just the three of us?’”

Jeongin snorted.

“Changbinnie-hyung probably could have killed him – if he hadn’t have been so relieved.”

“What did Chan-hyung do to make it up to you guys?” he sounded more relaxed now.

“Well, it took a while – but mostly it was offerings of coffee and treats. Couple dinners too.” He snickered at the memory.

Jeongin laughed too, easily able to imagine the situation, “One of my classmates said that the only talented members in Stray Kids were you three; 3racha. He bet, since the rest of us aren’t improving, you three would leave us within a year.” Jeongin sounded frustrated, “I know it’s stupid…but it makes sense…”

“What an asshole,” scowling deeply at the thought of the classmate Jisung continued, “we aren’t leaving. Chan-hyung waited forever and fought too hard to just ditch two-thirds of the group. He handpicked you.” Jisung popped his neck as he reached down to grab the plastic bags. “You and the others are extremely talented Jeonginie. And improving every day. Don’t listen to that jerk – he doesn’t know anything.”

“Yeah,”

“And it isn’t stupid. Okay? If something bothers you, even if you can rationalize it, it’s not stupid.”

“Okay,” Jeongin waited until they reached the dorms before adding, “thank you.”

Jisung wasn’t able to respond, they were blindsided by seven excited members when the doors opened, but he hoped the youngest would remember he was always there to listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this wasn't too bad...I kinda feel like it went off the tracks... ANYWAY, thanks for reading <3


	8. Seungmin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet Like Sugar takes place directly before this chapter; Jisung got sick during dance practice.

Things returned to normal pretty quickly following the events in the practice room. For Jisung anyway. He didn’t change his behavior much after he was diagnosed with hypoglycemia at all – he just had a name for how he felt now. And an excuse to eat more often.

The other eight seemed to have a bit more trouble letting go of the incident. Which the rapper did understand. If he’d seen one of them collapse during practice, he would probably be a bit overprotective too.

And he did enjoy the love, though he wasn’t a fan of them putting his needs first all of the time.

Unsurprisingly, Felix was the most clingy – he had admitted the day after Jisung returned to the dorm that he’d been having nightmares about the whole thing – and was currently wrapped around Jisung’s middle as they waited on the couch in the practice room.

The September twins and Hyunjin were waiting for Minho to finish up with his vocal practice so that the four of them could stylize the My Pace dance for the coming fan meets and dance video. They didn’t really need to change much, but Chan had asked them to come up with something fun and maybe a highlight dance.

The Millennium boys had gotten to the studio pretty early, getting a ride with their manager when Minho had to leave for practice, goofing off more than actually being productive. Which was a nice, unspoken, break since their comeback was so soon.

Across from the couch, Hyunjin was fiddling with his phone camera; messing around with the new filters.

Moments like this were some of Jisung’s favorite. He felt so calm and grounded with his members; his family. Perhaps it was sappy, but it really felt as though his most unrealistic and lofty dreams had already come true.

“Ji,” Hyunjin called out holding the younger’s phone up in his right hand, “message.”

Hyunjin waited, as Jisung fought off the smaller sunshine octopus and sat up, then he gently tossed the device to Jisung.

“Thanks.”

“Changbin-hyung?

“Nah, it’s from Chan-hyung.”

“Hey! It is _my_ message,” Jisung huffed in fake indignation, “It could have been private, ya know?”

Felix laughed behind him and Hyunjin smiled brightly as Jisung stood and clicked the phone on. Chan’s preview message faded as the device was unlocked. There wasn’t much else to the message, just the words, ‘talk to Seungminie please.’

“What’d he want Sungie? Got another idea for our fan meets?”

“No. He just has an errand for me to run.” Jisung frowned and glanced at the clock. Minho wouldn’t be finished for another forty minutes and Seungmin normally came – on their days off – to the studio around now to rehearse. “I gotta go take care of this. I’ll be back before Minho-hyung gets here. Call me if he’s early.”

Hyunjin looked up and scanned Jisung from head to toe before nodding, “Will do Ji.”

“Nothing bad right?” Felix had shifted, looking ready to stand and accompany Jisung if needed.

“I don’t think so,” he flashed Felix a smile, “Just something Channie-hyung wants me to check on.”

Jisung waited until he’d reached the hallway before trying to figure out exactly what he was supposed to be doing. Seungmin had been in good spirits before Jisung had left that morning. Excited in fact. The vocalist had woken up to a message from the company announcing him as the new MC of After School Club; he was basically vibrating.

And Jisung had cleaned up his clothes and even made his bed that morning; he had really been trying. Trying to put things away and keep things at least somewhat tidy. Seungmin got anxious when things weren’t organized. Not overly anxious, but enough so that Jisung had really tried to keep things in their place. It didn’t come naturally to the rapper, he even had taken to having a reminder go off each morning to help him remember. So it was possible he’d forgotten something that morning.

Jisung wasn’t a good roommate, he knew that. It wasn’t intentional – the clothing, wrappers, empty pens, pieces of ripped paper – his brain just switched gears too often without his consent and he’d forget. Seungmin was pretty forgiving, albeit a bit naggy, and had not gotten overly angry; yet.

However, Seungmin had been high strung over the last week. Prior to the text message, Jisung had assumed – somewhat selfishly – that he’d been responsible. But looking back, Seungmin had been unnerved before Jisung’s hospital visit.

Jisung clicked the elevator button, mulling it over in his mind. Was the younger nervous? Becoming the MC must be kind of stressful. That seemed likely, but Seungmin had such a stage presence – such power – nervousness shouldn’t be so controlling. He was funny and charming, and Jisung was sure he would become a fan favorite. However, he was the first member to really do something like that – so maybe it was bothering him.

That still didn’t explain why Chan had sent Jisung. The younger was no better than their leader when it came to comforting the members. When the elevator doors opened a couple younger trainees rushed out, Jisung unnoticed, and so the rapper entered quietly.

Seungmin liked to be on the upper floor, he said it felt quieter. However, Jisung thought it had more to do with it being Day6’s favorite floor.

The floor was empty and silent. Jisung thought he should have checked with Chan to see if Seungmin had even left the dorms before leaving the practice room. But it was too late now.

Most of the rooms were closed, dark, and lifeless, a couple had lights on and objects scattered across the tables within them – probably trainees. Jisung was about to give up when he heard Seungmin’s voice; though he wasn’t singing.

Translating technically. He would say something in English and then on the spot would translate it into Korean. Reading it sounded like. Seungmin would do four or five sentences – English to Korean; Korean to English – flawlessly, then stumble and Jisung could hear the younger fight to make the mistake come off as casual each time.

“Oh, yeah. I’d be nervous too,” Jisung muttered under his breath having nearly forgotten the role MC’s actually have on that show. Seungmin was a far better pick than Jisung had originally thought. The vocalist was far better at switching between languages, and certainly better at accurately relaying the meaning.

Jisung knocked against the glass of the partially closed door, not entirely sure of how Seungmin would react, how he’d help the singer, or if this was actually just a bad idea all around.

Seungmin stumbled over the Korean he had started to read, before turning to the window. If he was annoyed or angry by Jisung’s appearance, he didn’t show it, “Sungie! What are you doing up here? You guys finished with the dance stuff already?”

“Not yet. Minho-hyung is still in his lesson – we’re so bored.” Jisung latched onto the other's shoulders, deflating, “We shouldn’t have come early…” Seungmin was stiff for a second before relaxing – though not reciprocating – under Jisung’s touch.

“So you decided to come to pester me?”

The happy prodding in the question made Jisung smile, “Yep! I mean it was either that or wither away in the practice room like poor Felix and Hyunjin.” He shook Seungmin’s shoulders to emphasize this point, “I had to save myself, you understand? There was nothing that could be done for them.”

Seungmin snorted, “When is Minho-hyung finished with his class?”

“More than a half hour from now. Save me, Minnie!”

The vocalist laughed at that, “As if I’d save you.”

“Come on,” Jisung released his hold and pulled out one of the chairs, “I even put away my socks this morning. How could you not save me?”

Seungmin laughed again, rich and full of mirth, “Very true! I supposed I can save you this time.”

“This time?!” Jisung loved this about Seungmin. The vocalist had such a harsh yet inviting wit. It was like this perfect balance of bite and praise. “But I’ve been so good lately…”

Seungmin simply snickered at that.

“What were you doing before I got here anyway? I couldn’t hear you singing,” Jisung wasn’t sure if his friend would answer the question honestly. Just like his humor, Seungmin’s thoughts and emotions were often shared with some level of unexpected juxtaposition. Sometimes honest and open yet at other times a false front and closed door; personal things kept close to heart and shared only with a hundred percent sincerity.

“I hadn’t really started yet,” he sat continuing a second later, “I was just reading tweets.”

“Oh yeah? I really should check our social media stuff more often.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin shifted pulling out his phone, “people complain about your lack of pictures on Instagram.”

“I don’t like selfies~” he complained dramatically.

“Yeah, but you, Chan-hyung, and Felix are the best at English. You guys should at least look often for fans that don’t understand Korean.”

Jisung perked up internally, “Your English is probably way better than mine, Seungminie,” when the vocalist didn’t react, he continued, “I mean you are the new MC for After School Club after all.”

“Chan-hyung sent you here, huh?”

Jisung’s look of confusion must have been convincing, “What?”

“We had an argument this morning…” Seungmin flashed his eyes up, “Why do you think I’m the new MC? Why not Chan-hyung or Felix? They're Australian and fluent in English. Or why not you? You speak English as well as I do, better maybe…”

Jisung pouted, “Is that bugging you that much?” when Seungmin shifted uncomfortably, Jisung continued, “Having a native English speaker isn’t a necessity. You know that.”

“Well…yeah but.”

“Do you want Chan-hyung to do more? Just because he speaks English. Does he need another task?” He kept his voice grounded, refusing to let it bend in a negative way. Seungmin was worried and felt insecure about the situation. He needed a spotlight, not a lashing.

“No,” Seungmin paused, “no. Chan-hyung does too much already and he doesn’t need something else. But Felix…”

“Felix is comfortable with Korean around us because he has trust in us, trusts that we will help if he needs it. And support him if he struggles. And not laugh if he falters. I agree that his Korean is good enough to MC, but I don’t want him to feel pressured about it.” Jisung forced himself to stop there; he had a protective edge when it came to his sunshine twin.

“I know. But Felix is really good…He doesn’t have to be worried…”

“He doesn’t, but he would.” Jisung took a deep breath, “And me, I mean my English isn’t all that good. And I don’t have the personality for MCing like that.”

“You’d do great Sungie. You need to give yourself more credit.”

“You need to give yourself more credit.” Jisung smiled fondly, “I think you’re the perfect choice I mean, you’re witty – but calm; kind – but also harsh; charming – but also silly. You are going to mesh well with every guest and the other MCs in a way Chan-hyung, ‘lix, and I probably wouldn’t.”

“I think any of us would have been a good choice.”

“Maybe. But you were the choice,” Jisung shook his head, “You are the new MC and you are going to do great! Plus, how cool will it be when we guest on the show and you’re MCing!”

Seungmin jolted, “I hadn’t thought of that!” all of his previous insecurities dissipated from his voice and was replaced with excitement, “That will be so cool! Can you imagine!”

“It’s going to be awesome Seungminie! It will be so much fun.” Jisung jumped to his feet, “You’ll be the one leading us in the interview.”

“Do you really think I’ll be good though?”

“You’ll be great Seungminie. Everyone is going to love you.” Jisung paused for a second, "I mean the most important thing is that you want to be the MC. And I know you do. So you are the only choice!"

Seungmin seemed to accept Jisung’s honesty and nodded, “Now. How do I apologize to Chan-hyung? I mean, I kind of yelled at him before I left…”

“I’ve yelled at Hyung hundreds of times,” Jisung laughed affectionately; he had, though normally in a joking manner. “Chan-hyung isn’t stupid. Just explain why and I’m sure he’ll accept it.” A beat of silence followed, “Plus he’s a softy.”

“True.”

“Ah…” Jisung rammed his hip into the table, “Ow,” he pulled the cell phone from his pocket, which had caused the embarrassing incident – Seungmin had started laughing immediately – “Minho-hyung finished up early.”

“Did I save you from boredom?” Still laughing lightly.

“Yes!” Jisung rubbed his hip, “Thank you, my savior.”

“Idiot.”

“But you love me.”

“Shut up and go dance already.”

“Sure,” Jisung chuckled, “See you tonight.”

“Do me a favor Sung,” Seungmin glanced over, “Drink juice before you dance.”

Jisung rolled his eyes and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!! Thanks for reading <3


	9. Chan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is December!

Things were winding down, just slightly, in the days following the Berlin performance and the Sunshine Twins birthdays. Still busy, but less so, as the season moved into fall and towards the holidays.

The boy’s celebrated Seungmin’s birthday, making sure to show the utmost care for their vocalist, and then broke off for their mini-vacations.

Jisung’s parents had wanted him to visit for the holiday, but leaving didn’t feel right to the young producer. He’s shot down their inquiry without really any thought.

Since he met his Australian friends, Jisung had made an effort to make sure they were never left out or left alone during the holidays; Korean or Australian, birthdays included. He hated the idea of either of them being alone while the others were off receiving endless love from friends and family. Jisung wouldn’t have enjoyed his holiday with that knowledge.

His twin was returning to Australia for the first time in a long time; Jisung had stayed up with his fellow lightbulb the night before because Felix was vibrating so much he couldn’t sleep. The older was happy to indulge him. It was heartwarming to see his friend so happy.

Their leader was staying in Korea this year. So, Jisung was staying with him. It was simple really.

Chan was like a force; of nature, of passion, of talent, of understanding. Sometimes, Jisung wondered if the older was a mirage or a phantom – a fictional figure – that he just couldn’t catch. Someone so good he couldn’t be touched; not by Jisung anyway.

Jisung knew it wasn’t fair to think so highly of his friend. He knew Chan had flaws, had struggles, but the younger couldn’t help but look up to him with near endless admiration.

Jisung and Felix might be sunlight, but Chan was something brighter – deeper, richer.

He would willingly never see his family again if it meant Chan would never hurt again.

The rap trio had been in the studio when Jisung casually dropped the fact he’d be staying at the dorms over Chuseok. Met with instant comprehension and a soft smile from Changbin and instant concern and worry from Chan.

“ _My parents are fine with it Hyung. They know how much our music – our team – means to me_ ,” he’d said, and it was true, “ _I really want to work on some new ideas. I have got so many thoughts Hyung. You know me!_ ”

_“Yeah I do,” Chan sounded concerned still, but his eyes told a different story – one Jisung liked better, “Which is why we’ll have to do something. Something fun.”_

_“You’d better,” Changbin huffed then, “Don’t waste away in the studio. For me. Please.”_

After the other members had left, the dorms took on a nostalgic feeling. Back to basics. Chris, now Chan, and the starry-eyed newbie.

Granted Chan had been Chan for nearly a year now; solidified by their growing fanbase. And Jisung was certainly not a newbie in the way he had once been. They’d both changed so much over the last few years – or maybe they haven’t changed at all. Perhaps that was the charm.

Laying on his side, in the empty bedroom he was used to sharing, Jisung gazed out the window. The clouds seemed to be stopped against time, the image matched the soft music he had playing on the phone.

Moments like this made the young rapper feel small and still, just past dawn, unable to sleep because his mind was too full and his room too empty. The silence had become unnatural; almost unwanted.

With a simple motion, Jisung pulled his phone closer. It was six-twenty-one. Chan was, hopefully, still deep asleep.

Jisung allowed the song to finish before exiting the app, “Might as well do something,” he muttered aloud biting back a yawn.

Just like his room, the rest of the dorm was lifeless; it would have also been cold if not for the knowledge that the others would be returning in just a few days. In that moment, Jisung was again thankful he had decided to stay behind rather than allow Chan to freeze alone.

“Breakfast. I’ll make breakfast,” the kitchen was colder than his bedroom had been since the heat in the room had yet to be turned on and it made his skin crawl in displeasure.

He wasn’t the best cook, having once melted a spatula to the stove and burned the tips of his fingers attempting to remove the liquid plastic, but he had learned some over the years. With a little help from the internet, he was sure he could figure something out that would fuel the two before they started their day.

To Jisung, Chuseok was about family, warmth, and affection; it was a day for you to show you cared. So, carefully, he pulled things from the fridge that could be used to make an Australian breakfast – or at least as close one as he could. Eggs, sausage – they didn’t have bacon –, and the small hunk of cheese. From the cupboard, he found the half-eaten loaf of bread and added that to the pile.

“I am being so sappy today…” he huffed under his breath as he pulled out their small pan.

He didn’t start cooking until seven-fifteen and it went relatively smoothly. He only broke one yoke – his egg – and the oven browned the toast a bit darker than he would have liked, but other than that it was a success, or it looked like a success anyway.

Jisung hadn’t woken Chan up in a long time. Occasionally, after the two had gotten close, the younger’s anxieties would bring him to check on the sleeping boy. Normally, assuming he could do so without waking his friend, Jisung would just watch for a minute to convince his mind that Chan was fine. Later, after 3racha really started writing and composing, Jisung’s mind would play tricks on him and watching wasn’t always enough to soothe him. He’d wake Chan – under the semi-lie of a nightmare or insomnia – just to double check on the older. Of course, this was a secret buried deep and silent.

It wasn’t a fear anymore, maybe a mild concern from time to time, but not a fear.

Jisung listened outside of Chan and Changbin’s door for a second or two, and when it was silent he opened it slowly. Chan was wrapped tight in his blankets looking oddly like a caterpillar. “Hyung,” he crouched down near the leader’s head, “Hyung. I made breakfast. We should eat before head out.” They had planned to do some early holiday shopping – or planning – before sitting down to discuss future tracks.

“Breakfast…Ji?”

“Yep. Breakfast Hyung.”

Chan sat up blinking sleepily, almost sluggishly, then in an instant latched onto Jisung and pulled the younger boy onto the bed with him, “Good morning Jisungie~~”

Jisung made a startled sound, which bridged into laughter, “Morning.”

“Why’d you make breakfast?” Chan questioned, still not releasing his hold – cameras or not, he was a clingy person, “We could have just bought something.”

“I was bored,” Jisung struggled uselessly.

“Our Sungie and his never pausing brain,” Chan finally released the younger boy and stretched.

“It pauses sometimes,” Jisung had rolled onto his back after being freed and took some blankets with him as he did.

“Right,” Chan said skeptically as he shifted, grabbing a sweatshirt from the chair near his bed, “Your brain just slows down on occasion, but it doesn’t ever stop.” It was an affectionate dig.

“It stops~” Jisung whines further, accepting Chan’s hand after the older has stood.

“If it did you wouldn’t be Sung. Plus we need your brain.” Chan half pulled the younger rapper towards the kitchen.

“I’m sure my brain stops when I’m asleep,” Jisung countered again enjoying the playful banter.

“You cooked eggs? And sausage?” Chan wrapped the younger in a quick hug before grabbing both plates and moving towards their usual eating area, “Why?”

“It’s Chuseok.” He responded grabbing the silverware, “That one’s mine, Hyung! You get the one with the eggs done right!”

Chan chuckled softly as the maknae of 3racha switched the dishes. “You do know that Chuseok is a Korean holiday? Right?” he questioned playfully.

“Really!? I had no idea!” Jisung shot back wide-eyed in false surprise, “I can be nice you know?”

“You’re always nice Ji,” he paused, glancing at the food before him, “Thanks for this too. It looks great!”

Jisung dismissed the compliment, instead rushing back to the kitchen, returning only a few moments later with two juices from the fridge, “Juice is a breakfast drink.”

Chan watched the younger boy with a mildly amused, but greatly unreadable gaze, “How many are left?” he questioned pulling the juice closer.

“Hmm?”

“We’ll grab more while we’re out,” Chan nodded to himself opening the bottle, “We can’t run out.”

“We’ll never run out Hyung. Hyunjinie has like twenty under his bed and Jeonginie has a stash in the practice room too.”

“Better safe than sorry Sungie,” the leader said softly slipping the first bite into his mouth, the humming in satisfaction, “This is great Ji~”

“Yeah!?” he snorted at his own excitement and took a bite as well.

*~*~*~*

It didn’t take them long to finish – Chan refused to let Jisung clean – nor did it take long for the two friends to leave the dorms.

The summer heat had yet to fully recede fully, so by mid-morning it was warm enough outside to wander without a jacket. Despite Chan’s one-sided insistence, both boys left the dorms dressed for summer.

The streets were relatively empty, making the adventure enjoyable and calm. Jisung managed to buy birthday gifts for both Chan and Minho – with award-winning stealth in his opinion – but neither found much beyond that. Most of the small stores were closed and the larger department stores felt too chaotic.

By noon Chan demanded – childishly – that they had to go to his favorite café. The café where Jisung had met the majority of their members and where they tried to work on lyrics and song ideas.

The small café was the quietest Jisung had ever seen it, with only a few other patrons; a couple completely lost in each other, a teenage kid playing on his phone, and a young woman surrounded by books and typing furiously.

Chan led them to a corner table near the far end of the rectangular establishment, “Same as always Sungie?” when the younger nodded, Chan dropped his bag and scampered off to order, returning a few minutes later.

“She didn’t even ask what drinks we wanted. She recognized us,” Chan smiled brightly and moved his bags as he sat.

“Well, we’ve used this café as a hot spot for over a year.”

Chan hummed, opening his computer, “I ordered us some lunch too. I know the coffee has plenty of sugar but I’d rather you eat lunch.”

Jisung shifted at that. While the others would hint or comment passively about the rapper’s hypoglycemia, Chan was more parental in his discussion of it. The Australian had always thought of the groups as ‘his.’ Each member was ‘his’ in some fashion; his brother, his friend, his member. Jisung loved him for that, but it was still uncomfortable, “I’m fine. But thank you.”

“I know you’re fine, but I’m paranoid so humor me.”

Jisung shook his head and chuckled quietly as he put the plastic bag – filled with the gifts he’d purchased – on the floor by his feet and pulled out his phone. “You’re not paranoid…just worried…in a slightly irrational way.”

Their laughter lasted until the café worker brought over sandwiches and drinks. As the man left the two, still giggling, boys, a familiar distorted guitar rift replaced the previous sound flooding out of the speakers above them.

Chan froze, mid giggle, eyes suddenly wide and unbelieving.

It took Changbin’s signature ‘throat clear,’ for Jisung to recognize their song, “Hyung? Hyung! Do you hear?!”

Chan smiled at him, lips closed, cheeks tight, eyes wide, the kind of smile he used when the emotions were too tight.

“Hyung,” Jisung’s eyes softened in admiration for his friend, “Hyung. We’re playing over the radio.”

“Yeah,” it was pitched high, “yeah, our song is playing.”

“Your song is playing, Hyung.” The younger reached out and grabbed Chan’s hand, giving it a squeeze, “Your song is playing on the radio at our favorite coffee shop.”

The Aussie’s smile grew, teeth still hidden in a desperate attempt to maintain composure, eyes glossing over. He jerked a nod and grabbed onto Jisung, returning the tight grip the younger was giving.

“You did it Hyung,” Jisung whispered, feeling honored to be with Chan at that moment.

“Yeah…” the word was soundless.

As the song ended, Chan ducked his head and held it down for thirty seconds. When he lifted it again, he had managed to pull his emotions back and just smiled proudly.

Jisung was suddenly struck with pride by the strength his friend possessed. To train for years, to create a team, to get them all to the debut line, and now to finally hear something he’d created playing over the radio, “You’re amazing,” he blurted out quietly, eyes immediately reflecting his embarrassment.

Chan laughed gently, wetly, “No more so than anyone else on our team Ji.”

“No. I mean yes, but no…” his words were tangled up as they left his mouth.

“You and Changbin are just as responsible for the song’s creation, the boys are completely responsible for its color,” Chan’s voice was warm, full of affection. “My team.”

“Your team!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!! One more chapter to go~which is crazy!! Have a great week!


	10. Jisung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy <3

He didn’t feel good, not even a ‘not bad’ kind of not good or a ‘kind of not good.’ It wasn’t even a recognizable feeling. Over the last few months – and a lifetime of experiences to reflect on – Jisung had gotten pretty good at recognizing when his blood sugar was getting dangerously low. Or at the very least, he could tell when it was heading in that direction. He knew, that the worst days came after a break. When he would go from low-moderate activity back to a nine-ten hour dance rehearsal. It took his body time to rebalance. But this was different.

Jisung refused to believe he was sick. There unveiling stage for I Am YOU was less than twelve hours away, and he would not let a cold or flu affect it – he would not let his stupid blood sugar affect it either.

Seungmin and Hyunjin’s beds were empty, Jisung heard them get up a while ago so he figured it was safe to pull out the ‘emergency’ juice from under their bunk; they’d notice later – considering Seungmin made sure to check it every week even though Jisung hadn’t drunk any of them yet.

He’d tell them, Jisung knew better than to hide it from them, but maybe he’d feel better after a juice. Maybe this feeling was just blood sugar related. Maybe he could fix it without bothering anyone else. Maybe he’d correct this problem before he had to add more stress to his brothers. Maybe…maybe.

He pulled out the full box from under the bed and retrieved one of the neatly placed boxed juices. With a quick glance over his shoulder, like a toddler doing something wrong, and slid the box back into place.

Taking the first sip, after returning to his own bed, Jisung started to really think about the situation. If this was ‘normal for him’ – and it had been – then why was he suddenly paranoid over feeling a bit worse then ‘off?’ The incident in the practice room – where he had passed out and scared everyone so badly – had been a fluke. Yes, he was hypoglycemic. But, he had been long before he knew he was and he’d never passed out before then. Well, there was that one time during lessons…

He had told the others to just go back to normal, that nothing changed. So why was he the one feeling so paranoid?

“Jisungie?”

The rapper jumped, nearly dropping his half-full drink when Hyunjin spoke and patted his leg.

“You alright, Ji? I was trying to get your attention,”

“Really? Sorry, just thinking.” He tried to quell the other’s obvious worry.

“Why don’t we go out into the living room,” the subtext of ‘so we can watch you’ wasn’t lost, “get some breakfast into you too.”

“I’m really alright Hyunjinie. Just thirsty…”

“Still. Woojin-hyung and Chan-hyung wanted us all to eat breakfast together. You know since we are going to be busy with promotions and not going to be able to have a meal in the dorm for a while. At least not a relaxed one,” he didn’t move his hand, which was still resting on Jisung’s knee.

“Yeah alright,” he went to move but Hyunjin tightened his grip.

“Finish your drink first. They were still debating over what to cook.”

Jisung decided not to protest and quickly finished the last few gulps. Only then did Hyunjin move and allow the younger to climb off the bed.

To Jisung’s surprise, and delight, Hyunjin didn’t say anything to the others when the duo entered the main room.

“Sung save me!” Felix called out, though he didn’t move an inch from his spot on the couch, in exaggerated desperation, “Minho-hyung is saying he is going to use a marker on my freckles…”

“They’ll stand out better.” The older dancer countered from Felix’s side, marker in hand, “You can wash your face after.”

“Fans would think it’s cute Hyung!” Jeongin chimed in from his spot on the floor near the wall.

“It’s permanent marker!” Felix flailed passively, clearly not worried, yet. “Sungie – Sungshine – save me.”

Jisung felt better, mildly, and this situation allowed him to push the unknown paranoia aside, “How? I don’t have freckles to offer as tribute,” he spoke cheekily as he walked towards them.

When he was within reach, Felix tugged him onto the couch, squishing him between the dancers; as a buffer.

“Hyung could decorate your cheeks too Sungie,” Seungmin suggested, entering from the kitchen, “Stays would enjoy that too.”

“Fake freckles! We can post a picture of both Felix-hyung and Jisung-hyung with freckles!” Jeongin seemed to get increasingly more interested in the idea.

“What if they don’t fully wash off by our stage tonight?”

“I think you’d pull it off,” Minho commented, slowly reaching over Jisung, “But I want to decorate Felix-ah!”  he pounced awkwardly, pinning both Jisung and Felix in the process, and tried to reach Felix’s face with the now open marker

Hyunjin was there in a second, eyes flashing concern at Jisung, tugging Minho off the September twins, “What if it’s toxic?”

Jisung felt Minho relax into him before Hyunjin fully pulled off older dancer, and a pool of guilt slowly began to develop; he didn’t want Hyunjin to worry. Though Jisung was worried himself, so maybe.

“Okay, okay…” but I am going to buy Halloween makeup and I’m going to trace all of Felix’s freckles and then I plan on decorating Jisung’s entire face with freckles too.”

“Who’s showering this morning?” Chan’s voice beat the Australian into the main room by a few seconds, “I know most of us will later too, but if you’re going to we got a bit before breakfast.”

“Me!” Felix, Seungmin, and Minho shouted in unison and the three bounded towards the bathrooms – nearly kneeing Jeongin in the head in the process.

“Watch it~” Changbin called out from the same direction. The dark rapper entered, running a towel over his hair, “What was their problem.”

“Fighting for a shower,”

“Ah,” Changbin took Felix’s seat next to Jisung, “I see. You excited for tonight Ji?” he asked as though he didn’t know the answer.

Jisung stilled for a beat, he was – clearly – but he was also a bit terrified. An irrational fear of passing out on stage kept fluttering through his head. And it was terrifying. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Hyung get off me,” Jeongin complained from the floor.

“Never,”

“You alright Sung?” all the humor was gone.

“Yeah. Just a bit of an off morning,” he couldn’t lie to Changbin.

The older 3racha member scrutinized him, “Okay,” he said hesitantly, “but say something if you feel worse. You’ve eaten something yeah?”

“Not yet, but I had something to drink.” Jisung kept his tone low so that Jeongin and Hyunjin didn’t overhear, “I’m good, really.”

The older gave him another once-over and then continued on about his excitement for their stage.

Jisung was struck by how lucky he was to have these guys as friends; as family. What were the chances of him debuting with them?

“I can’t wait for Stays reaction, Hyung,” Jisung snuck in the words, as Changbin’s rambling dipped.

“Yeah,” the older’s voice was soft, “Yeah me too.”

“Hey guys, breakfast,” Chan had returned, “Jeonginie can you holler to those in the shower?”

Breakfast turned out to be the only semi-relaxing part of the day – unsurprisingly. No sooner than Minho and Changbin, they lost a round of rock-paper-scissors, finished the dishes did their manager arrived and whisked them off to the company.  

Where – after some faxed parental permission forms for a late night radio show and a few facetime calls across the country to explain the reasons for needing signatures – the nine ran through the set list for their Unveiling stage. Nothing too intense, Chan wanted them to save their energy for the show, but they were running through all the dances and transitions a couple of times.

After running I Am YOU for the second time Chan called a five minute water break. Which resulted in members scattering for snacks and phones more than water.

“Hey, Sungie?” Felix had popped up sports drink in hand, “Hyunjinie mentioned you weren’t feeling great this morning…” he hesitated, shifting back and forth from foot to foot – clearly more worried than he admitted.

“Yeah,” Jisung grabbed the drink being offered, “I was a bit this morning,” he paused a beat, noticing Chan’s gaze, “I think I might be getting sick or something.” Their leader was already by them and Jisung fought back a sigh.

Chan’s eyes fell on the sugary drink, “You feeling alright Sung? Do you need to sit out for a while?”

“No. No, I’m good.”

“He said he felt off this morning and that he thought he might be getting sick.”

Jisung couldn’t even feel annoyed at Felix; his September brother was still overly concerned.

Chan’s eyes widened moderately and he reached out grabbing Jisung’s arm gently, “I need honesty, Ji. Are you alright? Do you need to sit out or go to the doctor?”

Felix’s body begged for honesty as well.

Shaking his head, Jisung answered, “I’m fine. I did feel off this morning, but I,” he pursed his lips in thought, “I don’t think…I don’t know, I’m just anxious, I guess.”

“Okay, I want you to drink that and sit down,” when Jisung didn’t shift, Chan lightly pat the younger’s head to get him moving, “sometimes low blood sugar can cause anxiety. So drink that and we’ll see how you feel in ten minutes. Don’t look surprised. Did you think I wouldn’t research some.” Chan pushed Jisung towards the couch.

Seungmin, who was already sitting on the couch, watched the September twins – Felix fluttering around Jisung – as they joined him. He’s eyes recognized the situation but chose not to say anything. Instead, shifting so that the other two could sink into the old couch with him and then leaning into Jisung lightly once the slightly older had settled.

Felix joined them, sitting on Jisung’s opposite side, and slowly started tapping his foot.

The oldest of the three slowly brought the blue drink to his lips. Was the anxiety because of blood sugar? Was that a thing? It probably was – Chan would research about anything and everything that affects his friends. But was that why he was anxious? Maybe. Though to be honest, Jisung was starting to think it was something else. “What happens if I pass out on stage?” He could see it happening, could see himself push it too much and collapse on stage. He could see himself ruin everything for his friends and their Stays.

“You won’t,” Seungmin sounded sure and Jisung did his best to believe it.

*~*~*~*

He didn’t. The stage wasn’t ruined by Jisung; not this one anyway. He didn’t destroy Chan’s group – or Minho’s moment – or Changbin’s power – or Woojin’s voice – or Jeongin’s joy – or Seungmin’s dream – or Hyunjin’s love – or Felix’s smile.

That, Jisung decided, was one of the things that had been feeding his anxiety. From the idea that he would have been responsible for Stray Kids’ failed stage. The others didn’t seem concerned about that. Their fear had nothing to do with the stage. Their fear had been solely for Jisung.

Jisung loved them. God did he love them.

During his speech, he tried to convey that. Tried to convey how honored he was to be on stage with them; how ecstatic he was to be singing, to be rapping; how lucky he felt to be doing things he loved with the people he loved. He tried to convey how much he loved them.

And cried.

But that was fine, the feeling was just too strong; too real.

And they were there. They supported him. They loved him back.

Stray Kids might be around for another ten years; twenty; fifty; forever. But for Jisung, they had to be nine – he needed them to be nine. He fought for nine, he would continue to fight for nine.

They were his and he was theirs, and he truly loved them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I finished this story already! I hope you enjoy the ending. Thank you for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter is Felix (the chapters focus will follow the order of the tags).
> 
> I hope someone enjoyed it~<3


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